


An Espresso Shot at Love

by makkachino



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkachino/pseuds/makkachino
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki wakes up in an unfamiliar place, only to discover it might not be as unfamiliar as originally thought.





	An Espresso Shot at Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harky21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harky21/gifts).



> A little late, but this fic was part of the Yuri!!! on Yuletide gift exchange. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

The first thing Yuuri Katsuki noticed, when he woke up that morning, was the headache. Not the worst hangover he’s ever suffered through, but enough to be annoying. The sunlight peeking through the gaps in the curtains might as well have been a flashlight shining right in his face; it felt just as intense and uncomfortable.

The second thing was that he was not in his  _ own _ room. The sun was coming from the wrong direction, the sheets felt… wrong, but nice and soft, and the pillow under him smelled like lavender, not the cheap, pine scented soap he usually bought. 

The third thing Yuuri noticed was the large, impossibly cold foot pressed against the back of his thigh. 

Yuuri tensed up. This wasn’t the first time he’d had a little too much to drink, and woken up the next day with a sparse memory of the night before. But this  _ was _ the first time he’d woken up next to a stranger in a strange bed. What happened? Who was this person? How had Yuuri ended up in this bed, without, Yuuri noticed, as realization number four, most of his clothes?

Yuuri’s anxiety told him he shouldn’t stick around to find out, and for once, Yuuri couldn’t help agreeing completely. Thankfully, his glasses were easy enough to locate, on the stranger’s bedside table. With those on, his clothes were easy enough to recognize, in a wrinkled lump just feet away from the bed. 

Slowly and quietly, Yuuri slipped out of that bed, despite both his hangover and his now-cold skin insisting he get back in there and go back to sleep under those soft, warm blankets. Every little sound, from the shuffle of his t-shirt to his belt buckling, seemed to be earth shatteringly loud, but the stranger in the bed didn’t stir from his slumber at all. With socks on to protect his feet from the cold hardwood floors, the room felt a lot less chilly.

The studio apartment seemed nice and well taken care of. It somehow managed to appear both incredibly well organized and extremely cluttered, with every shelf packed full of books and boxes and knick knacks, but everything seemed to be in its proper place. A large, fluffy dog was snoozing on its bed in the corner.

Looking around, it was easy enough to find the exit. After checking to make sure that both his wallet and his cellphone where in his pockets where he left them (they were), Yuuri made a break for it, only briefly lamenting the fact that he couldn’t lock the door behind him.

The door opened onto a narrow stairwell; at the bottom landing, Yuuri spotted another door. The ugly, faded baby blue color peeling off of the walls seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn’t quite place why. It might have been from the night before, despite the fact that Yuuri’s memory was still fuzzy, at best. Hopefully some of those memories would return as the hangover faded away…

Yuuri wasn’t sure what he expected to find, on the other side of that door; another hallway, maybe, or some kind of entryway. It was a strange layout, but Yuuri’s hangover, and trying to finish his clean and quiet escape, seemed more important at the time.

What Yuuri found on other side of the door somehow managed to be both the last thing he expected, and a scene straight out of one of his worst nightmares.

Even from the unusual angle, Yuuri could see the cafe where he worked; he would recognize that counter anywhere, even if Phichit and Leo weren’t easily recognizable. The short hallway concealed him from view, and thankfully they were both too busy with the Sunday morning rush to hear Yuuri open the door. 

Or hear him slam it shut again. His fight or flight response was telling him fly, and so he did, right back into the apartment he had been so desperate to escape from in the first place, and he shut that door tightly behind him as well. To think, he had somehow ended up spending the night in the studio apartment above the cafe where he worked! And that meant…

“Oh, please don’t leave!” The familiar Russian accent made every muscle in Yuuri’s body feel stiff, despite how smooth the other man’s voice always sounded. “I was going to make you breakfast.”

Yuuri felt like a deer caught in the headlights, and the car was approaching him at a terrifying speed. Anxiety and dread weighed down his shoulders as he turned to face the man he had apparently spent the night with.

Yuuri knew very little about Viktor Nikiforov, the man had started leasing the studio apartment above Celestino’s about four months ago. He liked warm drinks with coffee, milk, and simple flavors like vanilla. He kept weird hours, so none of the shop employees knew when to expect him popping in and out. He was incredibly handsome and was, according to Phichit (who somehow seemed to know everything about everyone, a superpower that Yuuri didn’t understand, but envied all the same), tragically single. Pretty much everyone on staff at Celestino’s had some sort of crush on him, or at the very least admitted he was a contender for most beautiful man on earth. 

And now here he was, standing in front of Yuuri, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants that hung off of his hips in a way that could only be described as sexy. Maybe it was the hangover making everything hazy, but Yuuri couldn’t help noticing how… sad, desperate he looked.

“Well, you can leave if you want, I won’t stop you,” Viktor said. “Do you? Want to leave, I mean?”

Yuuri surprised himself; it almost felt like he was on autopilot, when he shook his head. “N-no, breakfast sounds fine.”

Viktor grinned, clapping his hands with excitement. Yuuri winced at the sound. “Oh, wonderful! You take care of the coffee, I’ll make the toast?”

Coffee. Yuuri suddenly felt cold all over. His one defining interaction with Viktor happened about two months prior, when Yuuri had made him his morning drink. Or tried to, at least. Viktor had rejected the drink four times, claiming something just wasn’t right. The more it happened, the more flustered Yuuri became. Eventually, he accepted Yuuri’s final attempt, with a flippant, “Eh, this will have to do”, before he dropped an incredibly generous tip in their jar and went on his way. Yuuri had never felt more humiliated in his entire life; his work performance suffered for weeks afterwards. He figured that was the end of whatever slim chance he had, at catching the man’s attention.

Up until last night, at least.

“I can’t just walk down to the cafe dressed like this, it’s not my shift-.” 

Viktor chuckled, “I have a French press, and a small grinder. Your boss talked me into buying them, he made it sound so easy. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it to turn out right. Someday, you’ll have to show me how to do it, Yuuri.”

He suddenly had a newfound appreciation for his own name, hearing Viktor say it. Yuuri trailed after him; the kitchen was small, and Yuuri spotted the tools of his trade right away. He had used a French press more times than he could possibly count, but... “But you  _ hate _ my coffee.” 

Viktor glanced over at him, head tilted in confusion. “No I don’t.”

“The one time I made your latte, you sent it back four times.”

“I… Oh!” Viktor’s expression changed from confused to amused so quickly that Yuuri swore he felt mood whiplash in his neck, and the older man leaned on the counter as he laughed. “Oh, Yuuri! You didn’t really think I was unhappy with my order, did you?”

“Well… of course. Why else would you send it back?”

“So I could keep talking to you, of course!”

“... Oh.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been-”

“You haven’t made eye contact with me for weeks, Yuuri. I was starting to think you’d lost interest.”

“I haven’t- I mean, I didn’t know-” Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time he felt so overwhelmed. Was Viktor…  _ interested _ ? In  _ him _ ? It sounded like it, though rejecting latte after latte at the expense of Yuuri’s self esteem seemed like an odd way to show it.

“Aw, Yuuri, it’s quite alright,” Viktor’s smile was now accompanied by two large hands resting gently on Yuuri’s hips. “Please, make a cup of coffee for me? I really want to try it…”

Yuuri swallowed, nodding slowly before he broke out of Viktor’s soft almost-embrace so he could focus on the task at hand. Everything was happening at an alarming rate, and with no memory of how he ended up in Viktor’s apartment in the first place… He felt like he was moving underwater; everything was slow and it was hard to breathe. But if he could focus on making coffee, something he could probably do in his sleep, maybe it would help him focus...

And so, Yuuri set to work. Heating the water on the stove, grinding the beans, with Viktor clinging to him all the while. 

“It’s a good thing you have all of this up here,” Yuuri said, at last placing the cap on top of the pitcher. In about five minutes, the perfect cup of coffee would be ready, just for the two of them. “I can’t imagine what everyone would say, if I had to go down there…”

“The walk of shame, in front of all of your coworkers and patrons... It sounds like a nightmare!” Viktor’s voice sounded playful and teasing, as his hands coiled around Yuuri’s waist, and his face nuzzled against his neck. “I guess you have no choice, you’ll have to stay here with me, all day.”

“All day?” Yuuri felt his stomach drop - a sensation made his lingering hangover all the more unpleasant. He turned around, and Viktor backed up enough to allow him to do so. His back was still pressed against the counter; Yuuri could feel the cold granite even through the fabric of his shirt. “Is there really no other exit?”

“There’s the fire escape, but you’d end up dropping down right by the front window,” Viktor explained. “I suppose you could do that, but…”

“But?”

“Well,” Viktor shrugged, suddenly melancholy all over again. “I thought you’d want to spend some time with me, after last night.”

Yuuri swallowed. “I’m sorry, I really don’t remember last night at all.”

Viktor’s already pale face lost all of its color in a matter of seconds. “Oh…”

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri repeated. It really was a shame; the look on Viktor’s face suggested he was blanking out on an eventful evening. And if they had slept together… Yuuri wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I must have had too much to drink. But… if I stay, maybe you could tell me about it? I mean, I’m sure it was good-”

“ _ What _ was good?” Viktor crossed his arms, and cocked his hip to the side. Yuuri couldn’t help feeling like he was in trouble, now. “Yuuri, do you think we did last night?”

“Well…” Yuuri tugged at his collar. When did it get so tight? “I had a lot to drink at the bar, obviously, and then we… We slept together, didn’t we?”

Surly that was the answer Viktor was expecting, but his expression became unpleasant, and a bit surprised. “Of course not! Yuuri, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I can’t believe you  _ really _ think so little of me. I would never take advantage of anyone like that.”

“Okay, okay…” Yuuri was relieved to hear that much. “I’m sorry, you’re right, but… If we didn’t,  _ y’know _ ...”

“Have sex.” Viktor finished for him, voice still a bit dry.

“Have sex,” Yuuri repeated. “Then what did happen? You have to admit, you’d think the same thing, if you woke up in someone’s bed, with all of your clothes gone.”

Viktor half smiled, reaching across the table to flick Yuuri’s nose gently. “You’re a really surprising person, Yuuri Katsuki. Fine, if you’ll agree to spend the day with me, I’ll tell you everything. But first, pour me some of that coffee, won’t you? It smells amazing.”


End file.
